So 2012 was the year that I finally caved in and joined Twitter. I had always been determinedly anti-social networking, I still don't know what Tumblr is and I thoroughly dislike Facebook. I once bought a T-shirt which said, "Am I f--- on Facebook" and wore it into training. Which probably wasn't a very sensible thing to do. It turned up the other day buried under a pile of clothes, never to be worn again.

My feelings towards Twitter have tended to be much the same. My impression was always that it was an interminable log of the nation's breakfast habits. Robbie Savage's incessant tweets during our Match of the Day appearances also put me off, it seemed as though Twitter was something from which you could never switch off. I was much happier communicating ideas through my Observer column and didn't feel the need to join the twitterati.

I also didn't fancy risking the wrath of football's governing bodies. The first tweet I ever read was during my Portsmouth days when one of my team-mates wrote: "Team of the week two weeks in a row, Fabio are you watching?" A prime example of how not to use Twitter. The authorities dreaded those kind of messages and over the years sent representatives to speak to players at the start of each season and warn them that we could be in breach of our club contracts were we to be found tweeting the wrong thing. The fact that the very same football authorities were themselves on Twitter did make things confusing but I believe they have this season introduced some sensible and welcome guidelines on the subject.

My own capitulation came about, initially, in the form of wanting to promote a good cause – the work of my foundation in Malawi, which seemed a good reason to get involved. But before I knew it I was being asked – and answering questions – about more general football chat. In fact, I was asked my opinion on everything from gun crime to the Mayan apocalypse, from Liverpool's back four to whether psychopaths have similar traits to international football stars (I would argue yes). Soon Twitter began to take over my life. Foolishly I hadn't counted on how addictive it might be, especially to someone with an addictive personality – without a job. You can imagine the impact on my home life.

I felt obliged to respond to everything immediately, or endlessly think up something to say to justify people following me. Someone sent me a text the other day that read: "It's easier to resist cigarettes and alcohol than Twitter." I'd say there's some truth in that. Before I knew it I was searching for the account of every American footballer I could think of just so I could follow them. And then unfollowing them after realising all they talked about was religion and advertising. My Twitter use, enjoyable as it was, was definitely getting out of hand.

So I can see how a footballer, or anyone else, might easily fall into the trap of tweeting something he comes to regret. Such was the experience of Rio Ferdinand when he retweeted a description of Ashley Cole as a "choc-ice". Now the general population, I would argue, would not have understood that term without explanation. Personally I haven't heard it in years. It is a slur generally used between black or mixed race people, similar to when Lennox Lewis called Frank Bruno an Uncle Tom.

But for journalists picking up on Rio's tweet and making it headline news, it probably would have gone over most people's heads outside the black community. Nevertheless the FA duly stepped in and, following a swift disciplinary process that bore little resemblance to the season-long debacle concerning the John Terry incident, Rio was promptly fined £45,000. Personally I thought that was ridiculous. The sum itself seems extortionate compared with the fines handed out to Serbia for their fans' racist behaviour. Of course I don't agree with Rio's comment, there's no way of justifying that, but to hand out such a disproportionate fine seems harsh.

It is precisely these sorts of incident that no doubt make the football authorities wish Twitter had never been invented. Everything about the medium screams anarchy, power structures turned on their head. While Rio has 3.7 million followers, the FA has 280,000; while Wayne Rooney tweets to 5.5 million, most Premier League clubs do well to attract even half a million. And, if you have such a huge captive audience, then why bother speaking to traditional media?

As Michael Owen complained on Twitter the other day, the press have a poor reputation among footballers of twisting the facts. I have certainly enjoyed being able to correct press reports and clarify my views, debating with journalists and fans. Being able to interact with football supporters, as though you are just sat down having a coffee and a chat with them, is amazing.

One thing Twitter does spell is the end of football autographs. Some people say a footballer's follow is the new autograph but I'd argue that it is the tweetable photograph. People don't carry pens around any more. It's all camera phones and within an instant it's up on Twitter. I do wonder if that means yet another nail in the coffin of the live match experience. If fans can interact with footballers online, instead of needing to hang around the ground to catch a glimpse of them, and if they can follow the games online with tweets from fans and journalists actually at the game, plus the usual TV and radio coverage, why bother ever leaving the house?

I hope instead that clubs and governing bodies cotton on to how Twitter can be used to promote the game in a positive light. Players should be encouraged to tweet about community projects instead of just promoting their own commercial interests. And the whole experience of interacting so directly could be developed as a way of attracting new fans to the game. For now at least Twitter is the future. Let's just make sure that football is there alongside it, every step of the way.

David James (@jamosfoundation) has donated his fee for this column to charity. Frank Keating will return next year